


Quicksand

by songsformonkeys



Category: The Equalizer (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Song fic, sia free the animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsformonkeys/pseuds/songsformonkeys
Summary: Another Sia song fic for Dave York. This time it’s vaguely inspired by the lyrics to Free The Animal“You take your chances when you kiss the hitmanThe animal's inside of this infinite jestLoving you to death, loving you to deathThe pressure's rising I won't make it through tonightThis love immortal is an assassin's delight”
Relationships: Dave York/Reader, Dave York/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Quicksand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yespolkadot_kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/gifts).



> As always, thanks to my lovely friend and title fairy @yespolkadotkitty for betaing, for helping me come up with titles that aren’t shit, for requesting a fic about Dave in camo and for keeping me company in the Dave York Pit. I love you and this story is for you! <3

Rain is pouring down outside, the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows echoing through the empty rooms and thankfully drowning out the sound of your soft footfalls against the linoleum floor. The building is old but it's basically just a hollowed-out block of concrete, which also helps to keep the creaking to a minimum and allows you to move silently up the stairs and through one empty room after another.

You reach your goal when you get to the sixth floor. The door to the room is open enough for you to slip through without having to push it open. It's a sloppy mistake and you briefly wonder if it's done on purpose. Then you notice that there's no handle on the door and think maybe that's why.

There's a figure stretched out on the floor in front of an open balcony door. He's lying on a foam sleeping mat, which makes you wonder just how long he's been camped out here. His posture looks perfectly relaxed where he's slightly pushed up on his elbows and looking down the scope of the sniper rifle. He's wearing that damn camo jacket again and you got to admit that it does things to you, seeing the fabric stretch over those broad shoulders.

You stand up on your tippy-toes and look out through the door of the balcony. You can just spot the windows of your apartment over his shoulder. All the lights are out, obviously, since you're here.

”I take it there's been another note sent your way with my name on it?” you say and watch the man on the floor tense up as he hears you speak, ”I swear, you're getting sloppier with each try, David.”

* * *

You slowly walk over to him. The only movement he makes is turning his head just a fraction so he can watch you out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't say anything. The tension in the air is thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

Both of you are ready to strike at a moment’s notice, when you lower yourself onto the floor next to him, mimicking his pose, your elbow brushing against his. Dave lies perfectly still. You can practically see the cogs turning in his head. Him debating whether or not this is the day he will actually finish the job. Your heart is beating at a wild pace, like it always does when he's close, but you refuse to let him see it. This dance the two of you have going is thrilling and Dave is the sweetest drug. But take it too far, and it will surely kill you.

”Quite a setup you've got here,” you say, letting your voice drop a notch lower and you lean just a little closer to his ear to speak. You can practically see the hairs stand up at the back of his neck and you smirk. His jaw is clenched tightly and his lips pursed. You can't quite tell if it's annoyance or something else.

”But David, you know better than to open a balcony door in an abandoned building like this,” you tsk.

He mutters something through clenched teeth which you don't quite catch.

”Sorry, what was that?”

”I said...It's Dave.”

”My bad. Dave”

You let your eyes travel down the length of his body, the curve of his back, his firm ass and thighs in those green pants, then back up to his neck and face. Your muscles are aflame with the need to touch him, to have him touch you, take you. You want to taste those lips again.

And so you do.

It's a marvelously stupid idea, and you know it. You take your chances when you kiss the hitman, know that one of these days he might not reciprocate. His lips feel just as soft as you remember them when they finally connect with yours.

Before you have time to do anything else, Dave strikes like a cobra, knocking you over onto your back and pinning your hands above your head. You hold your breath. But as he leans down to press your lips together again, you accept that this is not the moment when Dave kills you.

”Oh Dave, you animal,” you tease and he glares at you.

”Shut up,” he growls, but his touch is surprisingly soft when he reaches down to begin unbuttoning your shirt. His hand slides under the fabric and into your bra to pinch your nipple. It's a little too rough, definitely on purpose, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, forcing him to move the hand trapped between you.

You kiss him like you're lost in the desert and he's the last drop of water. You don't know which time is gonna be the last time you get to kiss Dave so each time you're allowed this, you make the most of it. Your tongues tangle together, playfully battling for dominance in a game where there are no losers. Dave moans into your mouth and slides his hand to the back of your head to hold you close.

He pushes your skirt up and slides his leg between yours. You angle yourself so that you're able to grind yourself against his thigh. It shoots sparks of pleasure through you, like you're connected to a live wire, and you grip him tighter, the fabric of his jacket bunched up in your fists. Dave pulls back with a hiss as you accidentally bite his lip on a particularly good roll of your hips.

The floor is freezing against your back and dusty enough that, no doubt, you're gonna be a mess for more than one reason if you get out of here. If you'd known this was gonna be how you ended your night, you wouldn't have worn black to work today.

Dave is hovering above you, watching your face as you rub yourself against him. He's frowning, nothing new there, but his eyes are pitch black with lust. You can't help but let your mouth fall open slightly to make an almost keening noise. It has the intended effect and Dave crashes in to lick the lingering note of the vowel from your mouth.

He climbs over you in a movement that's way smoother than you imagined a maneuver like that could be, especially considering he's still expertly kissing you. For all his rough exterior and manners, the way Dave kisses betrays a softness about him which you're not sure he realizes himself. It's not a kiss that possessively claims. There's no need, since the movements of his lips and tongue makes you want to hand yourself over, mind, body, and soul. You think this makes him more dangerous than the violence and physical strength.

Dave pushes your skirt up even further so he can position himself between your legs. You feel exposed as he spreads your legs further apart and the cold air of the room only adds to the sensation. He fumbles, trying to get hold of the very thin fabric of your nylon pantyhose so he can pull them down. He has little success and while you have no complaints about his fingers dancing over your crotch like this, you want more and you want more now.

”Dave,” you say, to get his attention, ”They literally cost no more than 3 dollars. Do with that information what you will, but do it fast, please!”

Dave stops to look at your face for a moment. The next sound you hear is that of thin fabric tearing before he pulls you up and onto his lap. Your thighs are spread wide on either side of his and when he reaches down and around to run the knuckle of his index finger over the flimsy fabric of your underwear you feel the stretch of your muscles as you attempt to push yourself lower against his hand.

In this position, there's nothing you can do to relieve the pleasure building almost painfully between your thighs. You're at the mercy of Dave's hand. His other arm is wrapped around your back, holding you close enough that your chests touch. Your forehead is pressed against his and his touches have you quivering. You could let him get you off like this. It certainly wouldn't take long. But you are greedy and you want more.

So in a feat of surprising strength, you manage to free yourself from Dave's hold and push him onto his back on the sleeping mat. You think the unexpectedness of it is the only reason you get away with it.

Straddling his hips, you feel his erection strain against the zipper of his pants so you slide just a little lower so you can work the zipper open and pull him out of his underwear. As your fingers curl around the length of his cock, Dave lets his head drop back against the mat with a sigh of relief. You begin to slowly stroke him, watching the involuntary expressions that flitter across his face. These expressions excite you, make you feel like you're seeing the real Dave behind the facade he no doubt keeps when he's on a job. You picture him with a boring and mundane day job, reading a book, or bringing you breakfast in the morning. It's a romantic fantasy that has no place in a setting like this. Dave is a stranger in the night, nothing more. The second you forget that is the second you'll be doomed.

When you finally allow yourself to sink onto Dave's cock, you're so wet that the sound it makes is downright obscene. The stretch is pure bliss. Dave's hands are on your hips and you can feel them shaking from the effort to hold still. You slide your hand under the collar of his camo jacket and dark gray henley, trailing your fingers along his collarbone. Dave shudders at the featherlight touch.

He says your name, and you think maybe it's the first time you've heard him say it out loud. It awakens something inside you and, possessively, you want to hear him say it over and over again.

You begin riding him, slowly at first, but quickly speeding up as the sensation is too addictive, making you want more more more.

”So how else would you do it?” you pant and Dave gives you a confused look. You nod your head towards the forgotten rifle, ”Shooting me was clearly a bust. So what else have you got up your sleeve? You're gonna throw me off the roof? Explode me? Decapitate me? Cut my throat?” You lift your hips and slide back down with each suggestion. Dave's eyes are screwed shut but the hands on your hips are urging you on.

”Or is this the plan?” you ask in a teasing tone of voice, ”Fucking me to death? Squeeze me tight until I draw my last breath?”

Dave doesn't answer. You hadn't expected him to. Beyond telling you to shut up, he usually doesn't go along with your verbal banter. Instead, you have to go by the expression of his face to know whether your comments hit their mark. Right now, though, his face is impossible to read and it scares you a little bit. You ride him faster, to distract you both from whatever thoughts you just planted in his brain.

It works, for you at least, and the pleasure builds and builds the harder you fuck yourself on his cock. Your breaths come in shallow huffs of air, mingled with moans. There's a slight sheen of sweat on Dave's forehead and he's biting his lip, hands still on your hips, urging you on.

When you come, it's his hands that keep you moving through your orgasm. He's close too, you can tell. But when you come down from the high of your release, you lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose before batting his hands away and standing up on shaky legs.

Dave looks completely confused by the whole situation until you shimmy your skirt back down and give him a wide grin. Then realization dawns and his face darkens.

”Thank you,” you say, backing slowly out of the room. ”I promise that when I'm ready to die, I'll let you do the honors. See you next time, Dave York,” you wink and, before he has time to get up, you close the handleless door between you. 

That's gonna give you at least a minute's head start, in case he decides to come after you.


End file.
